


My Love Has Concrete Feet

by semele



Series: What There Was Left of Love [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 17:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4147083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/pseuds/semele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the next few days, Bellamy doesn't really have much time to think about Raven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Love Has Concrete Feet

**Author's Note:**

> A third part of the series, set right after "What There Was Left of Love" and "We Accept the Love We Believe We Deserve". We are still being very much not nice about Wick.

For the next few days, Bellamy doesn't really have much time to think about Raven.

It's not like she isn't there, somewhere, no matter what he does; Raven Reyes, a constant hum at the back of his head. Still, he doesn't _think_ think about her, focused on food, and guns, and repairs. He managed to wrestle some ammo out of the Council, and set up sessions to teach their people to shoot, so he really doesn't have time to spare, given how he doesn't get any less of his regular hunting chores.

Raven's turn is four days after their last night together, and it's not the best time. Bellamy is running late, tired and cranky, so he can't even check up on her properly. All he can afford is a brief smile as he hands her a gun, and then he's running drill after hasty drill, coughing from too much smoke, and rubbing his eyes as if he didn't know it'll only make things worse.

He doesn't notice when she slips away, but with all the people around them, it's really no wonder that he got distracted. It stings a bit, the way she's been avoiding him, but it's so obviously not about him that he registers the pain as an irritant more than a wound, because, seriously. If his pride survived all that clumsy sex they've had, it can also survive not being the center of attention for a few days.

***

He decides to give her space and not bother her until she herself comes to him, so, logically, he loses his cool the very next morning.

He feels like an idiot coming to her workshop with no proper excuse, but it'd probably be worse if he came ostensibly waving a broken radio, so he tries not to let it get to him. Raven seems jumpy behind her worktable, wired and restless, and buzzing with irritation Bellamy can't pinpoint to anything specific. She's distracted, too, given how quickly she notices him enter even though she’s working on something, and Bellamy acts on impulse. He's by her table in a few long steps, his hand automatically landing on her shoulder as he leans to see what she's working on.

That's when Wick storms into the shop with an empty rucksack in his hand, and Raven immediately freezes under Bellamy's touch.

He can't take his hand away quickly, not without making it obvious to everyone around that Raven nearly jumped out of her skin, so Bellamy leans over her, his body pressing against hers for a split second when he picks a random object from the table, then straightens up, pretending to be very intrigued.

When he can look up again, first thing in his line of sight is Wick tossing random tools into his bag like his life depended on it. Raven, engrossed with the spectacle, can’t take her eyes off Wick’s hands, and there is _something_ there Bellamy can feel -- a tension that’s as obvious as it is none of his business, except Raven is so restless he has to consciously stop himself from reaching to rub her neck.

“New assignment?” he asks when he feels silence get far too stretched for comfort.

“Yeah, you could say that,” replies Wick casually, picking up another screwdriver. “It was getting stuffy here. Right, Reyes?”

It’s a perfectly normal response, but something in Wick’s tone makes Bellamy’s skin crawl.

***

When he gets back to his tent in the evening, Raven is already sitting on his bed.

He doesn’t usually take initiative with her; not yet, and not for a while, not after Mount Weather. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why she’s been jumpy ever since, and Bellamy saw enough footage to not be surprised by any reaction she might have, especially to unwanted touch.

So when he sits on the floor in front of her, he makes sure not to startle her. Slowly, he rests his palm on her healthy knee as he makes himself comfortable.

He has to kneel up to kiss her, his hands moving up her thighs in a comfortable, lazy motion. It’s been the hell of a week, but now he forgets, forgets the drudgery and the bad feeling he had earlier today, because Raven’s fingers are in his hair, and suddenly he feels overwhelmingly, unimaginably tender.

He peels off her shirt easily, then starts working on her pants without missing a beat. Raven is strangely compliant, open and seamless in a way that should, would make him stop, if he wasn’t so damn focused on listening for catches in her breath. She even lets him leave her brace on, so that he only slides off her other pant leg before he starts dropping kisses on her inner thighs.

It’s deceptively easy, the way she lets him slide his tongue into her, and feel her wet and ready. Remembering his lesson well, he doesn’t try to lick her directly. Instead, he makes his tongue soft, and gives her a feather-like touch that makes her cry out, cry out and grab on his hair just like girls on stories, hungry and needy, and so beautiful he can barely breathe.

He builds her up with all the care he can muster, until he feels her unravel under his touch, her moans of pleasure obvious to everyone in five mile radius. 

It only occurs to him that there was something off about it when he wakes up in his empty bed five hours later.

For the next three weeks, Raven barely speaks to him.

***

Bellamy isn’t particularly proud of how it took an epic fuck-up for him to finally start paying attention, but it’s not like he can do anything about it now.

There are things he knew from the get-go, things about Finn, and legs, and the ground, but Raven isn’t the type to overshare, so he knows little about her life on the Ark. It occurs to him, too little too late, that maybe he should’ve just asked her, and hey, maybe now would be the time to let go of that ridiculous pride of his, and just go ask Wick.

Bellamy isn’t an idiot, and anyway, their camp is basically made of gossip, so he knows Raven and Wick had a thing, and that it turned sour before it really started. He doesn’t exactly have a timeline to things, especially since Raven was sick for so long after Mount Weather, but it was hard to miss the look on Wick's face when he carried her back into camp. They go back, that much is obvious.

Still, there is something in Bellamy that makes him hesitant to ask, and he can’t quite explain his gut feeling even to himself.

***

In the end, Raven returns as randomly as she disappeared.

She’s carrying an armload of food, and she looks a bit stiff; hard and serious, and determined to keep herself from touching him. Bellamy takes the rations from her, and starts laying them out into the single bowl he owns for them to share. He assumes she’s staying for dinner, and thankfully she doesn’t correct him.

“Aren’t you going to ask where I’ve been?” she shoots when he extends the food to her.

“What do you mean? You’ve been here, I saw you around camp all the time.”

“You know what I mean.”

He does, but he has no clue why she insists on talking to him like this, on baiting reproach and looking for a fight. He never gave her the reason to be so distrustful, at least he doesn’t think he did, and he keeps running in circles in his own head, looking for something, anything, apart from that one idiotic night of not listening.

It’s also entirely possible that, simple like that, not everything Raven is about him.

“I freaked you out,” he says, betting on honesty. “You ran. I’m sorry.”

For some reason, this ruffles her feathers even more, but she stays until the end of the meal, and when she’s about to leave, she seems to linger, to hesitate just for one second. Then, decision made, she suddenly turns to face him, and before he can react in any way, she wraps her arms around his waist.

It’s easy to return her embrace; easy to slide his hands down her back, and rest his cheek on her head pressed into his chest. She’s a solid weight in his arms, warm, and strong, and comforting, and Bellamy, caught up in the moment, whispers something ridiculous to her, a few soft words she doesn’t reject, even if this isn’t their usual way.

She goes back to her tent when she’s done hugging him, but the next day she comes back, and this time, she stays the night.

***

Bellamy doesn’t really pay attention to who sees them when they emerge together in the morning. Walls in Camp Jaha are paper-thin, so everyone knows who’s doing what with whom, whether they like it or not. It’s polite to not comment, and the only reason Bellamy gets a mocking half-leer from Miller is that nothing actually happened last night -- nothing but sleeping, Raven curled up into him against the cold, her body relaxed under her pile of blankets. Bellamy knows it all too well that there are nights when it’s just too hard to sleep alone, and, focused on this thought, he doesn’t think to look around when he holds the flap of his tent open for Raven.

Then suddenly, there is a buzz to his right, some kind of motion that makes him turn his head.

Wick is standing by Miller’s tent, a piece of tech clearly meant for Miller senior held carefully in both hands, and his eyes are glued to Raven, jumping from her easy pace to messy hair.

"Well, that's new," he says, and Bellamy can tell that he means it like joke, except it falls flat, disappointed and a bit petty, and filled with such genuine surprise that at first, Bellamy has no clue what he's talking about.

At the sound of Wick's voice, Raven curls into herself like she just took a blow, but then she straightens up, and her hand goes smoothly to Bellamy's shoulder, resting there lightly in a demonstration that couldn't be clearer.

This isn't about him.

He is her friend.

It takes Bellamy no more than a split second to take a side. He focuses his attention on Raven, and makes himself easy under her touch, casual and relaxed like this was every day, Raven Reyes showing affection in public. He doesn't drop the act even when they're out of sight; he walks her nearly to her workshop, talking about some jamming gun he wants her to take a look at, then smiles before he goes his separate way.

***

He expects Raven to stew for a few days before she comes to him again, but it’s not much of a surprise when she shows up empty-handed right after his shift.

“Look, I’m sorry for his morning,” she says before he can open his mouth. “I shouldn’t have…”

She hesitates there, unsure about her words, but Bellamy doesn’t really need her to finish.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies, sinking on the bed next to her. “I didn’t mind. Are you staying tonight?”

Apparently this is the wrong thing to say, because Raven gives him a look that’s one part annoyance two parts challenge, I dare you, I double dare you.

“And what if I’m not?” she asks defiantly, and that’s when everything in Bellamy’s head clicks.

Raven. Wick. _That’s new._

“Then you’re not. Do you have enough blankets? Or do you need to take some back?” he says, trying to make it as casual as he possible.

Except this conversation is everything but casual; Raven’s gaze is locked with his, her body twisted awkwardly on the cot so she can see every detail of his face, determined to spot any hidden meaning. Apparently, she finds none, or maybe she just wants another test, because she slowly leans forward, and kisses him full on the lips.

It’s a long kiss, slow and comfortable, and when Bellamy finally breaks it, he lets himself smile as he cups Raven’s cheek.

“Tell me what you want,” he asks, and for the first time, his words rest easily between them.

Raven takes both of his hands, and puts them boldly on her breasts before she moves to straddle him. She seems cautious when she starts kissing him again, and it makes Bellamy pay attention as well. Raven likes right touches, and that’s how he starts out, but somehow everything feels new about the way she’s moving now, so on a hunch, he squeezes one of her breasts a little harder.

She lets out a gasp that goes straight to his groin.

They’re still kissing when she pulls them up so they can get rid of their clothes, and once they’re done, Bellamy helps Raven sit on the edge of the bed before he takes his usual spot between her spread legs. It’s difficult for her to be in a different position since she got shot, and that leaves them with a familiar setup, his hands on her hips and his mouth pressing lightly into her neck, but Raven, thank God, is done with familiar.

“Lower,” she whispers, her muscle tense as if she was giving in to a heroic act of bravery, and Bellamy drops his head instantly, biting briefly on one nipple before burying his face between her legs.

The only two times she let him touch her, he built her up for what seemed like forever, so this time he licks directly at her opening, and feels her thighs clench around him.

“Do you need me to slow down?” he asks to make sure, but Raven, excited by this change of pace, takes hold of his hair to pull him an inch up, where she wants him, and there is a sureness in her movements that makes him feel drunk, drunk, delirious, and trusted. 

She comes with a breathless sob, then slumps bonelessly against him as he gets himself off quickly, way too hard to want to wait even a second longer. He can feel her hands on his back as he rubs himself furiously, and for a moment, he is completely enveloped by Raven, Raven thoughts and Raven smiles, and one very Raven foot slowly stroking the back of his calf.

She doesn’t stay the night afterwards, to prove to them both that she can.


End file.
